


Intertwined

by TomorrowWithNoRegrets



Category: Vinland Saga (Anime), Vinland Saga (Manga)
Genre: Developing Friendships, One-Sided Attraction, Slow Burn, basically the prologue but with Ælfgifu included
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 07:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30085416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomorrowWithNoRegrets/pseuds/TomorrowWithNoRegrets
Summary: Ally is surprised. Not only does a Danish messenger arrive at her home completely unexpectedly, no, he also tells her that she’s getting married. And her future husband is none other than Sweyn Forkbeard's son Canute!In the sudden wedding Ally sees her chance to help overthrow King Aethelred who years before had caused the death of her father and brothers. But Canute isn’t the strong warrior she had expected and when he leaves for London shortly after their wedding, Ally has a very bad feeling.Without further ado, she decides to follow him. Not knowing that Aethelred should be the least of her worries, for her husband's enemies lurk in the ranks of the Northmen themselves.
Relationships: Canute/Ælfgifu
Kudos: 1





	Intertwined

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoulxSilence](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=SoulxSilence).



> This one is for you, Soul.  
> I wouldn't have fallen so deeply in love with this tragic shipping if it wasn't for you and your input.

_It's getting late_ , Ally thought, as she returned from one of her extended walks across the estates. Behind the tall trees of the nearby forest the sun was already sinking into the horizon, bathing the world in blood-red light.  
It was late summer, almost autumn, but the leaves and grasses were still a lovely dark green and the days pleasantly warm. Ally enjoyed every moment of free time she could spend in nature. She loved to walk along the edge of the forest and watch the servants working in the fields from a distance.  
How she would have loved to get closer to curiously look over their shoulders, but since her mother's death not long ago, she had taken over all the duties of the lady of the house and whenever she appeared near the servants for seemingly no reason, they assumed she had come to supervise their work. So she left it at longing glances from afar.  
The evening walks had become a habit for Ally in recent weeks. So much that she felt agitated and restless on bad weather days when she couldn't go out. They didn't just help her recover from her responsibilities. They were also the only minutes of the day when she could convince herself that the world was a different place. A peaceful one. For nature didn’t let the atrocities of man disturb its beauty and tranquility.  
But the sunset was enough to make her realize the harsh reality. Her lands were merely dyed red by the evening sun, but elsewhere fields were soaked with blood.  
All over England people feared the Danes, who looted, destroyed, and killed without ceasing. Ally had never known a time when England was free of raids, but this time was different. This time, they had quickly realized, it was not about making as much loot as possible or getting paid to leave the country. No, this time they were greedy for power. Every new piece of terrible news that reached Ally's house made that clearer. And while many Englishmen had initially trusted that King Aethelred would beat back the Danish king, by now everyone was aware that England was facing a new age. It was only a matter of time before Sweyn Forkbeard would put an end to Aethelred's reign, and - Ally breathed in the evening air with relish - she longed for the day when news of his demise would knock on her door.  
She only wished his end was stained with less blood.  
It was not the news of Aethelred's demise that knocked on her door that evening. But while she was away, someone _had_ knocked, and when she returned in the twilight, she was already met by one of the girls at the front door. She was white as a sheet and her eyes were dilated with fright. When Ally tried to reach for her hand, she recoiled. She was trembling.  
"What happened?" asked Ally, alarmed by her violent reaction. "Is someone sick?"  
The girl shook her head. "No. No, we're fine, but ..."  
"Yeah, what?" asked Ally gruffly. Maybe a little too gruff. But something had to have happened, or she wouldn't be standing there so distraught.  
"A messenger has come!" the girl gasped.  
"A messenger?" There was nothing unusual about that. Messengers came and went, bringing news of families in the area or reporting attacks by the Northmen.  
The girl must have realized that her answer had confused Ally more than enlightened her, for her cheeks reddened in embarrassment before she lowered her eyelids and added, "It's a Dane."  
"A Dane? What's a Dane doing here?"  
"I don't know. But he knew your name and demanded to speak with you. He said he had been sent by Sweyn Forkbeard himself."  
Ally bit her tongue. From Forkbeard himself? Absolutely impossible. What would Sweyn Forkbeard want from her of all people? She would have been less surprised to find her home destroyed when she returned, and a squad of Danish warriors raiding her supplies and her girls.  
"Excuse me, but ..." the girl said anxiously, "we invited him in, of course. What should we do? He’s waiting for you. Was that wrong?"  
Ally shook her head. "You have done nothing wrong. I will talk to him."  
With these words she stepped into the house and was about to make her way to her room to change when the girl spoke up again.  
"May I ask a question?"  
Ally guessed what was on her mind and she didn't feel like talking about it, yet she granted her the permission to speak. "Go ahead."  
"Are you working together with the Danes?"  
Ally smiled. That was exactly what she had expected. That's why she had withdrawn her hand in fright when Ally had come too close. She was afraid. Of the Danes. And if Ally was in contact with them, she was afraid of her as well.  
"Did I ever give that impression?"  
The girl lowered her eyes again. "No."  
"Then please assume that I have no idea what a Danish messenger is coming to see me about."  
When Ally entered her room a little later and began to change her clothes, her heart thumped excitedly against her chest. It was true, she really couldn't make sense of why Sweyn Forkbeard had sent a messenger to her. She herself had never tried to contact him or any other Dane. Still, it was not the first time her house had hosted a Dane.  
Her father and Forkbeard had been in close contact when Ally had been a little girl. Why, she still didn't know. Her father and her big brothers had constantly implored her not to ask questions and, more importantly, never to say a word about it.  
She had never said a word about it. And yet, the correspondence with Forkbeard had cost her father his life and her brothers their sight. After that fateful day, when King Athelred's henchmen had gained access to her house and destroyed her family, the name of Sweyn Forkbeard had not been mentioned anymore.  
And no more letters or messengers came from him.  
Whatever her father had been involved with the Danish king, Ally had assumed that it was none of her business. That she wasn’t involved and that after her father's demise, as well as that of her brothers a little later, there was no reason for Forkbeard to keep in touch.  
Apparently, she had been wrong. She was involved.  
And if she listened deep inside, she had to admit to herself that, despite the fear that had apparently spread through her servants, she herself felt only excitement and curiosity.  
She was sorry that she had frightened the girl. And she was sorry that she had lied to her. For whatever Forkbeard had to tell her, if it could harm Aethelred's reign in the least, then she would most happily make an alliance with him and be part of this conspiracy.  
The man waiting for Ally was a not very tall yet stocky fellow with sleepy eyes and a dim-witted expression. Ally wondered if he always looked like that, or if the alcohol the servants had handed him contributed some part to his appearance.  
Although he was already a little drunk, as his flushed cheeks revealed, his voice sounded strong and clear as he spoke.  
"There you are. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me." He grinned at her. "I'll make this short. You’re going to marry Prince Canute. As early as next week. I suppose you’re not surprised. After all, this marriage was decided years ago and your father will have inaugurated you."  
He hiccupped.  
And the ground seemed to be pulled away from under Ally's feet.  
It was a joke, wasn't it? A bad joke from a drunken man.  
"Are you serious about this?" asked Ally, skipping over the rudeness of the messenger, who was now taking a few more big gulps and licking his lips. Normally she wouldn't have let such behavior pass but at the moment she was just too perplexed to reprimand him.  
"Of course. I’m surprised to have caught you off guard. I thought you had known for years."  
Ally shook her head. No. No, she hadn't known. Her father was dead. And she had been just a child when he died. If Ally's marriage had indeed been decided then, he had probably intended to tell her later. When the time was right. But he had not lived long enough to do that.  
And her mother? Did she know? Why hadn’t she told her?  
"Well, then, now you know. I'm glad you're not making a fuss about it," the messenger said.  
A fuss? As if she could make a fuss. She could hardly comprehend what had just been revealed to her!  
She had never dreamed of a love match. As the daughter of an ealdorman, she was aware people of her position very rarely married for love. It was for influence, wealth, calculation. Marriages were partnerships of convenience between families, nothing more, nothing less. If you learned to love your partner over time, that was good, but not the most important thing.  
But this was something completely different! This was not about a high-ranking man from England, but about a Dane. About Sweyn Forkbeard’s son! If it came out that she was promised to him, Aethelred would send his henchmen again. And this time it would be her blood that stained their swords. The thought made her tremble.  
While all sorts of emotions warred with each other in Ally, the messenger seemed extremely pleased with himself. He smiled. He had done his job and brought Ally the news of her soon to be marriage. But what he didn't know was that he had also provided her with answers. For years she had wondered what business had connected her father and the King of the Danes. Now she knew.  
She herself had been the business.  
The following night Ally found no sleep.  
It had begun to storm in the late evening hours. The wind whipped around the house, whistling through every leaky crack and howling eerily through the hallways. But it wasn't the storm outside that kept Ally from finding peace, it was the storm raging inside her.  
She tried to look at the situation positively. Marrying Forkbeard’s son, as her father had intended for her, could give her a comfortable life, if the Dane actually managed to push Aethelred off the throne. She, Ally, would then be part of the new royal family! To imagine that was an uplifting feeling.  
But this marriage also had a bitter taste. Ally was no fool. She knew what she was. Just a safeguard so Forkbeard could be sure of her people's support. And she didn’t like that at all.  
Marriages of convenience usually brought benefits to both families. In her case, however, it was very uncertain what the future would bring. After all it was still possible that Aethelred would miraculously manage to put the Danes to flight. And then? Would she still be of value to Canute and his father? Would they take her with them to Denmark or leave her behind and abandon her to her fate, which would be so similar to that of her father and brothers?  
Ally turned around in bed and pulled her covers up to the tip of her nose. She couldn't think like that. Aethelred was weakened. He wouldn’t last much longer. And her marriage to Canute would give Forkbeard even more important allies who would eventually bring Aethelred down. That, after all, was what she had wanted since that terrible day. He would pay for what he had done to her family.  
Here was an opportunity for her to participate in his downfall! Even though the disadvantages of this arrangement were clear to her, she wouldn’t refuse. She couldn’t refuse. Her father had intended this path for her. Years ago, even before Ally's hatred for Aethelred had been stoked, he and Forkbeard had chosen her to be a pawn in this struggle for power. And just as she had to find her way into the role of mistress of the house as a young girl, she would accept the role as Canute’s wife and fill it to the best of her ability.  
"I will avenge you." she whispered, then finally, after several hours of lying awake, a leaden tiredness settled over her, causing her to fall asleep in no time. A belligerent smile on her lips.

The following week flew by. Ally felt as if the Danish messenger had just arrived as she stood in front of the house in the evening glow, awaiting her guests.  
Another beautiful late summer day came to an end, but this time she hadn’t roamed the lands. She hadn’t had the time. Of course, the wedding had to remain a secret and there would be no big celebration, but the food for her future husband and his companions still had to be provided. For days, Ally hadn’t had the chance to make one of her strolls. All this time she had been cooped up in the house, supervising the less than enthusiastic servants in the kitchen and making sure that several rooms were prepared for her guests.  
Now standing here in the evening light, breathing in the fresh air again, did her good and relaxed her. At least until the patter of horse hooves could be heard coming from the forest. It made her heart skip a beat.  
They're coming, she thought, clenching her hands nervously into fists. Having come to terms with her role in this game didn't mean she wasn't excited. She was just a young woman like any other. And she was eager to meet the man she would marry.  
In the past few days, she had often tried to imagine Canute. As the son of Sweyn Forkbeard he was a warrior, no question about it. Ally imagined him tall and broad-shouldered, with eyes sparkling with lust for battle and a confident expression on his face. Whether she was right in her assumptions would soon become clear, for the first silhouettes appeared at the edge of the forest.  
Ally narrowed her eyes.  
Three people. That was all they were. That irritated her. Of course, Forkbeard couldn't send a lot of his people with them, but being only three seemed rather reckless to her. The prince had to be a good fighter if his father sent him with only two escorts. After all, the danger of being attacked or kidnapped was ever-present.  
It took only a few minutes, then the horses and their riders had reached the house. Ally's gaze first fell on a man of indeterminable age in priestly robes. He might be in his early twenties or late fifties. His hair was unkempt and tousled, his beard framed his entire face, and as he dismounted from his horse, the smell of alcohol rose to Ally's nose. Good grief, surely this man wouldn't marry her off?  
The second man was tall and broad built, but there was a warm glow in his eyes and he approached her with a winning smile on his bearded face.  
"I take it we have the pleasure of speaking with the lady of the house?"  
His question was unnecessary, for her clothes clearly showed that she wasn’t one of the servants. But he was polite, very different from the fellow whom Forkbeard had sent as a messenger and whom she hadn’t shed a tear for when he left.  
"That’s right. Aelfgifu is my name." she replied, unable to prevent the corners of her mouth from twitching upward as well.  
"It is a great pleasure to meet you. I’m Ragnar. This is Willibald." He pointed to the priest, who nodded briefly to Ally. She returned the greeting with a nod as well, before Ragnar took a step aside, giving Ally a clear view of the third person who had arrived. They had been standing behind Ragnar, completely hidden, and still held the reins of their horse tightly.  
Ally couldn’t believe her eyes. In front of her stood the prettiest girl she had ever seen! Long blonde hair, golden eyelashes and delicate features. In contrast, Ally felt downright shabby for a moment, though she was aware that she had a thoroughly pleasant appearance. Her hair was jet black, full and curly, her eyes large and expressive. Quite in contrast to the girl's lifeless eyes, which seemed to look right through her.  
Ally became aware that she was staring at the girl, so she lowered her gaze and an awkward silence settled over the group. She tugged at her dress, hoping someone would say something, because she was confused. Where was Canute? Why had they brought only this girl instead of him? Would he still join them, or was it possible that the messenger had misinformed her? Was their wedding to take place elsewhere and had they only come to pick her up? But even that didn't explain the girl's presence. She had enough girls she could ask to make the trip with her. They didn't have to bring anyone with them.  
When Ally raised her eyes again, the girl flinched. The expression in her eyes had become clearer, almost curious. She had been eyeing Ally, no doubt about it. Caught off guard, she began to wrap a few strands of hair around her fingers.  
It was Ragnar who broke the silence. Ally was relieved. Now she would surely get answers.  
He cleared his throat. Then he took the reins from the girl's hands and gave her a small, encouraging push. The girl tensed, but Ragnar nudged her once more. Ally had to grin at the gesture. They seemed like father and daughter.  
When the girl still didn’t open her mouth after several seconds, Ragnar sighed. He smiled placatingly at Ally and said, "May I introduce you? That’s his Highness, Prince Canute."  
Prince Canute?  
Ally felt her grin fading.  
Had she heard right?  
_Prince Canute?_  
This beauty was ... her future husband?  
This couldn't be true. Sweyn Forkbeard's son couldn’t be such a delicate and shy person!  
But Ragnar didn't look like he was joking, and neither the priest nor the girl objected.  
The girl...no, Canute, was still playing with his hair. Almost as if he had expected Ally's astonishment. Almost as if he was used to getting incredulous looks. And he probably was. Ally couldn't be the only one who had been misled by his appearance.  
She sensed the attention of everyone present was now focused on her. They expected her to say something, to respond in some way. She noticed that Canute’s second hand had buried itself firmly in the lining of his red coat. Was he trembling? She couldn't see it clearly under the fabric.  
Ally sighed softly, straightened her shoulders. She didn't want Canute, Ragnar, or Willibald to assume that she was suddenly dissenting because of Canute’s appearance or behavior.  
She took a step toward him.  
"It’s a pleasure to meet you. I'm sure we'll get along well."  
_And if we don't, that's not a problem_ , she thought.  
For they wouldn’t marry to have a happy marriage. They had a job to do. Both of them. Even Canute as Forkbeard's son was just a pawn thrown across the battlefield. It was irrelevant whether they found each other attractive visually or in terms of character.  
In the meantime the sun had disappeared behind the treetops. House and lands lay in the shadows. The wind blowing in from the forest was fresh and smelled of fallen leaves. A harbinger of the approaching autumn.  
"I think we should continue talking inside," Ally suggested. Partly out of politeness, partly because she had noticed several of her servants hanging around outside the house for an unnecessarily long time. Everyone wanted to see the Danes. Everyone wanted to see her future husband. Ally didn't even think about giving them more opportunities to gossip. Because gossip they definitely would after they saw Canute.  
Both Ragnar and Willibald nodded their approval as she gestured for them to enter. The two men quickly scurried into the house, obviously exhausted from the journey. Only Canute made no move. He had taken the reins of his horse again as soon as Ragnar was no longer at his side. As if they could give him support in his place.  
Although he was a bit taller than Ally, he seemed incredibly fragile. And Ally felt pity for him. She didn't know what had happened in his life to break a young man of his standing like that, but it must have been something horrible.  
"Won't you come in with me? It's getting cold," she said softly. "The servants will take care of the horses. You can be quite at ease."  
Canute opened his mouth as if to reply, but immediately closed it again. Instead, he just nodded, let the reins slip from his hands, and fled into the house without turning back to her.  
Startled by the hasty movement, his horse neighed. Ally patted it reassuringly before it could make the other two animals nervous as well, then waved to one of the men who had been watching them from afar.  
"If you're going to hide out by the stable, you might as well take care of the horses," she said to him as he trotted over to her, caught off guard. "And one more thing," she added. "I don't care what you talk about among servants, but if I hear that a single word has leaked out, I will be very displeased."  
Ally punctuated her words with a warning look, waited until the man had disappeared in the stable, then turned around and stepped into the house where Ragnar, Willibald and Canute were waiting for her.  
She swallowed when she saw them.  
Yes, displeased she would be. Displeased and trembling with fear that Aethelred might send his henchmen after her if he learned of all this.  
She imploringly hoped everything would go well.


End file.
